


The Marshal's Guide to Lucid Dreaming

by SensationalSunburst



Series: PawPaw!Cor [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Afterlife, Cor is BEST, Dream Sequences, End Game Spoilers, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Post Game, Umbra is the Law, made family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-20 19:10:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SensationalSunburst/pseuds/SensationalSunburst
Summary: By far one of the best perks of the the Beyond, in Cor Leonis’s humble opinion, was his newfound ability to fall asleep on command.Which meant that his mind now had the time to craft truly fantastic dreams, instead of just replaying the last shitty thing that had befallen himself or his friends. And best of all, on rare occasions, he managed to trip into the dreams of the living.ORIn which Cor visits those he left behind in dreams.





	1. Iris

By far one of the best perks of the the Beyond, in Cor Leonis’s humble opinion, was his newfound ability to fall asleep on command. Now, when he trudged to his old quarters in the Citadel or down to his own, quiet house in the 3rd district, he could shed his clothes, crawl into bed, close his eyes and be out light a light. There was no more tossing and turning, no more staring at the darkened ceiling for hours, convincing himself to ignore the quiet squeaks and cracks as the house settled around him. No more jackknifing awake when rambunctious teenagers screamed own the streets towards downtown (even though they still did), just uninterrupted, solid sleep.

Which meant that his mind now had the time to craft truly fantastic dreams, instead of just replaying the last shitty thing that had befallen himself or his friends. Now his dreams were filled with sunlight, instead of blood, and laughter instead of screams, or the hard, metallic shrieking of felled MTs. And best of all, on rare occasions, he managed to trip into the dreams of the living. The Veil didn’t seem to exist in dreams, and he was able to converse freely with whoever he happened upon. Most the time however, the dreamers were convinced that he was simply a figment of their imagination. He suspected that it was for the best.

Tonight seemed to be one of those nights as he opened his eyes to the brilliance of the sunset over the grand, shining city of Altissia. He'd only visited the city a handful of times in life, but as he gazed about, attempting to get his baring, he found it looked exactly like Prompto's photos. He found himself standing in front of one of the city’s many flower stalls, surrounded by the ebb and flow of the evening crowd and clutching a bouquet of sylleblossoms and snow white lilies. The seller was smiling at him from under her visor, but she wasn’t quite looking at him, which was unsettling enough to make him scoot awkwardly from her empty gaze and further down the street. As he took a step however, he was struck by the feeling that he was being drawn somewhere. He passed by shops with filled people, restaurant balconies buzzing as the crowd chattered on in a mostly indistinct din about how beautiful the sun was as it cast deep purples and reds against the fluffy clouds meandering on the horizon.

The strangest thing however, was how the world went soft and fuzzy around the edges as he glanced beside or behind himself. The dream therefore, kept ushering him forward, forcing him left and right, down narrow, ivy covered allies and up over Altissia’s innumerable stone steps. It urged him to cross small bridges over the canals, shimmering gold in the last of the perpetually setting sun’s rays, always steering him by dropping what could have easily have been Prompto’s soft focus lens in his way. He allowed himself to be lead, quietly delighting in the feeling of the salt breeze tossing his air, and the light hearted excitement from every person he passed. He glanced over the last bridge he crossed, and smirked at the dark haired twenty-something that smiled back.

Eventually, he made his way to the backside of yet another restaurant, this one casting the smell of freshly baked cakes and bread into the air, yet suspiciously empty of patrons. He paused just before the front door, eyeing the golden croissants piled in the display case and looked out towards the water, where the blurring effect seemed to lessen.

There, sitting with her feet dangling in the waters of the port, was a fifteen year old Iris Amicita. Her boots and socks were seated next to her, folded neatly in a way that suggested that this Iris was likely young in appearance only.

He approached noisy, shifting his weight forward so his footsteps echoed along the stone wall of the bakery to their right. Iris glanced back before his second step rang out and Cor nodded in greeting as her eyebrows took up residence in her hairline.

“Wow.” She whistled, scooting over to pat the cobblestone beside her, “Never seen you so young.”  Cor removed his own boots and handed her the bouquet as he rolled his pants up as best he could.

“For you.” He said. Iris smiled and tucked her nose among the sweet blossoms and clutched the bouquet to her chest.

“My favorites.”

“Funny that iris aren't.”

“Come now, that would be far too easy.”

Cor huffed a laugh and turned his eyes forward, vision catching on where the blurring effect shifted into something that was almost too sharp. Out beyond the docks, on a floating pier in the center of the bay, were the backlit silhouettes of Noctis, Ignis, Prompto and Gladio. They were jostling each other as Noctis hauled a glittering fish from the depths, showing off to his brothers gathered behind him.

“All they ever seem to do is fish.” Iris laughed, waving a hand out over the water. Cor hummed and leaned back on his hands, kicking his feet idly against the incoming tide.

“Have you tried calling out to them?”

“They never hear me.” She shrugged, picking absently at the black tissue paper wrapping the stems. She kept her eyes on the boys, a soft, sad smile on her face.

“They always seemed so far away when they were alive, it makes sense that I can’t reach them now.” She explained, “Even when I was sardined in the backseat of the Regalia, they were still just out of my reach. It was like… they were always on a different level than me.”

“They wanted to protect you.” Cor said.

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me, and I get it. Especially after the kids, _I get it._ But man, it sucked. Knowing something big was happening and nobody letting me in on the act. Even at the beginning, when they left that first time it seemed so obvious that _something_ was happening, I just didn’t know _what_ until we watched the Wall fall.” Iris heaved a deep, exhausted breath and slumped into Cor’s side, resting her head on his shoulder. It sounded strange for someone so young to sound so utterly, completely, Done. Cor grunted in encouragement and slung his arm around her shoulder. Pop a bonfire in front of them and swap the street for the glowing runes of a Haven, and they could have been right back in the Dark, Cor teaching the youngest Amacita how to hunt. How to fight opponents four times her size.

“And then the Darkness fell, and I still knew something was going on in the background that nobody would tell me. Remember the way Gladio just snapped that day at the Cape and broke the gardening hoe? I think I kinda knew then that Noct wasn’t coming back, not really; ‘cause Gladdy always got mad when he realized he couldn’t fix something.” In dreams, Iris seemed to be far more willing to talk about it all. Cor figured that here, she wouldn’t have to risk someone shooting her those dreaded looks of pity. The empty platitudes, as if “I’m sorry for your loss” really covered the magnitude of what had been wiped off of Eos.

“I wonder how mad he was when he found out what was going to happen to Noct. Did he freak out right then? Did it take it out on the demons?”

“I suspect it was the latter.” Cor snorted. The path of destruction leading to the Citadel had been savage. Decimated MT’s, chunks of what may have been monsters at one point, the smoldering remains of demons. Slices of pure, unhinged fury carved into metal and flesh. Cor completely understood. After he’d found Regis and Clarus in the ruins; when he’d set out to find the Prince and his retinue, he’d funneled every atom of his soul scorching rage into his blade and gone after everything that moved with such ferocity that Monica had had to sit him down and explain that he was scaring everyone. It hadn’t stopped him, but he’d saved the anger that made his hands shake around the hilt of his blade for when he went on solo missions.

“Gods, I miss you.” Iris sighed, throwing her head back to the sky. She squinted her eyes, as if holding back tears, but her eyes remained dry. She slid her gaze to Cor, head dangling from her neck, and threw him a perfect match to Clarus’s crooked smile.

“I miss you as well.” Cor replied.

“You know, you almost seem real.”

“Almost? I feel like I should be offended.”

“Usually, you’re older. Less hair, permanent forehead wrinkle. And you don’t say anything. It’s like… it’s like my mind has your description down, but not your characterization. Ha. If it weren’t for Prompto’s videos, I’m afraid I’d have forgotten what you guys sounded like.” She laughed lightly, and swung her head back onto his shoulder and snaked her arm around his waist.

“He still takes those damn videos.” He grumbled.

“All an act; you don’t mind. He’s still too adorable to get mad at, right?”

“Not the word I’d use.” Iris barked out a laugh, drawing a smile from Cor. The sound echoed across the water and Cor was struck with how silent the entire city had become. Even as gondola sailed smoothly past them, he noticed that the oars made no sound. The passengers on board, a young couple, made no noise, even as the woman threw her head back in laughter.

“Well, if you are real, be sure to tell everyone I love them. And I miss them.”

“Of course,” Cor said, tugging her closer into his side. “They love you, too. Odessa talks about you constantly.” There was a moment of almost audible confusion as Iris’s eyebrows darkened her eyes as her mind struggled to connect the name to the woman she hadn’t really known. Then, her face opened and a bright smile lit up her features.

“All good things, I hope!”

“Only good things,” Cor confirmed with a smirk, “She’s proud of you.”

Iris’s laughed again and shrugged.  

“I mean it. She’s in awe of your control over the munchkins.”

“Speak of the devil.” Iris perked up, head tilted towards a sound he could not hear. “I can hear Aster calling. She sounds pissed. Nap-time is over.” She sighed around a laugh as the edges of her skin went began to darken and flicker, like a reflection of the sunset on the waves.

“Until next time then, pipsqueak.” Cor smiled.

“Until next time, old man.” As Iris shimmered out of the dream, night finally fell over Altissia, as if her presence had been the only thing keeping the sun aloft. Cor’s arm flopped limply against the pavement without her shoulder to support it. After another long moment of watching those unreachable boys on the dock, Cor pushed himself forward to slip in the darkness of the water and let the current carry him back to the Beyond.


	2. Cindy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cor learns that even Dreams have rules.

When Cor had fallen asleep, he’d been tucked into a fluffy white blanket embroidered with sylleblossoms, seated just to the right of the massive, quartz fireplace in the mansion at Tenebrae. Snow was falling in thick, fluffy flakes against the stained glass windows of the main library, and it only just muffled the shrieks of laughter from the main garden just outside.

The kids, having grown up in the Insomnian desert’s heat, still found snow to be an amazing novelty, save Prompto, who’d blanched at the sight of the white blanket on the ground, and who’d been coaxed out only by the promise of hot chocolate and Ignis’s beef stew. Cor, who only saw blood when he crunched through the white stuff, had refused their offers of a snowball fight and sledding and took refuge inside with Pluvia, Ignis’s eccentric mother, who, upon burying herself in a book, had fallen blissfully silent.

With the logs crackling and popping in the hearth and a belly full of Ignis’s fantastically boozy mulled cider, Cor had dozed off the second that Aulea had prided his empty mug from his fingers.

When he next opened his eyes, it was with the realization that he was _burning up_. His hand went directly to his throat to claw desperately at the tie tightly knotted there. He realized after a moment, that he was standing in the shady darkness of a familiar road dust covered garage, dressed in his stuffy formal uniform and holding some sort of gear, about as large as a dinner plate and four times as heavy.

On lifts, with the unmistakable yellow clad body of Cindy rolling about beneath it, was the devastated remains of what was once a beautiful, matte black car. It was shot to high hell, mangled and burnt as if the Infernian himself had used it as a teething toy. It was only when he saw the crumpled sliver an Insomnian licence plate that he realized that the hunk of scrap metal was in fact the remains of the Regalia.

In life, Cor had only seen the vehicle after Cindy had been done with it. He’d heard of the “mission” to recover it, but had forced himself to stay far away, unwilling to see further evidence of the death of a generation. It had been hard enough to bury them all, to haul their bodies from the Citadel. He hadn’t thought he’d have the energy to bury their car, the only home they’d had left, as well.

“She sure took a beatin’ for those boys, huh?” Cindy drawled, hands on the hips of her bright, grease covered jumpsuit. She’d crawled out from under the wreckage, looking maybe thirty; about as old as she’d been when, as Cid had predicted, Cor had had to pull her away from some useless project to properly mourn the mean old man that had raised her.

“You can fix it though.” Cor assured. He shifted his weight and grimaced as the ill fitted dress shirt pulled taut across his chest. When was the last time this Gods awful ensemble had seen the light of day?

With a start, he realized that Cindy had imagined him in the outfit he’d been buried in.

“‘Course! It’ll take a little love is all.” Cindy’s smile was brilliant and laced with the determination he’d come to associate with her. She hid a lot behind those white toothed grins, and he couldn’t tell if she knew if he was dead or not.

“Body work’ll take the longest, this gear here is gonna fix a bunch of issues in her undercarriage. Looks like she hit a mine down there.” She said, gently prying the gear from his hands to place it on the short, rolling work bench just under the car. She stepped forward and ran her hand over a massive rip along the passanger’s side door, fingers fluttering just over the jagged, rusted edges.

“Areana thinks that the demons kept attackin’ her after the boys had escaped because she smelled so much like ‘em.”

Cor removed his jacket as he felt a bead of sweat trickle along the shell of his ear, thankful for the excuse to look away from Cindy’s wry smirk.

“Do you remember all the stuff we found in her? Cans of Ebony, rolls and rolls of film. All of Gladio’s trashy novels. I still got not idea how that man read those with a straight face, dear Lord. That little Carbuncle figurine. All their camping gear. This car was their home.” She did a circle of the car and ended with both hands gently cradling the only intact headlight.

“Ya can’t really bury a car, can you? I kinda wish we could. Make sure they were close to home, so to speak. The Quay probably would look down on it though, and I know the Memorial Council would have a cow. Imma take the licence plates tho. Put ‘em out there on the Quay. Let ‘em glisten in the sun till they can’t no more.” She wrapped her gloved hands around the plate dangling from the front of the vehicle and gave a sharp tug. The remains of the bolt keeping it in place popped loose and sailed of somewhere past her right shoulder, allowing the plate to fall neatly into her hands.

“Ah, look at me ramblin’ like PawPaw.” Cindy laughed, and brushed past Cor to drop her prize on a workbench behind the car.

“I’ll go tell him you’re here, I know he’ll be happy to see you.” She beamed. She turned, shaking off her heavy gloves to tuck them into her pockets and was about halfway to the door that lead up to the apartment above the shop when she froze mid step, as if short circuiting. Cor considered calling out, but was stopped when he felt something bump roughly against his knee.

Glaring up at him, if a dog could glare, was Umbra, teeth slightly bared, but silent. Cor’s eyebrows dipped in confusion but he didn’t have enough time to ask the messenger what was wrong before Cindy spoke again.

“Oh.” She sighed, as if suddenly exhausted. Her shoulders slumped minutely, and she readjusted her ballcap before she turned slowly and smiled at Cor, who at once felt as if he should be moving forward to attempt to comfort her. That look, that strange, half smile that didn’t reach her eyes, the slump to her shoulders, it wasn’t right. Cindy had Prompto beat for the Sunshine Personality Award, and to see her world with a cloud in it brought instinctive unease to Cor’s heart.

“I remember now. Should have realized when I saw the suit.” Cindy came closer and place her hands up onto his shoulders, brushing away invisible dust off the cords and tassels swinging on the edges of the uniform.

“It looks much better on a younger you, though.” Cindy smirked.

“I don’t even remember when I got this commissioned, it’s too tight.” Cor huffed, trying to evoke a smile. Cindy’s lips only twitched. Below them both, Umbra lifted his head and put Cor’s pinky finger into his mouth. He could feel the sharp points of the dog's teeth experimentally pressing against his nail, his knuckle, and he was suddenly certain that he wasn’t supposed to talking so much.

“It fit ya fine when we had ya’ all dressed and laid out.” She smiled, and lifted her hands to his cheeks, turning his head from side to side to take in his younger appearance. She’d never seen him like this, so young, with an uneasy smirk on his lips. Hair long and full and combed back so neatly.

“So good to see you,” She said, wiggling his head now, a real, full smile splitting her face, “Good to see ya in the sun. You’re happy, right? PawPaw is happy? Have you seen those wayward boys?”

“Everyone is happy.” Cor confirmed, allowing a smile to soften his face.

Umbra’s teeth tightened around his finger.  Cor didn’t look down at the dog, as he figured he had it figured out. There were rules, Odessa had explained them to him over a tall glass of perfect, smooth, oaky Altissan whiskey on the roof of the Citadel, but here? With his adopted granddaughter in front of him? Finally able to hear him? To see him?

“It’s paradise, and everyone is present. We’re _always_ with you, Cindy, always. We-” Cor yelped as Umbra bit savagely down on his pinky finger.

His eyes flew open as he ripped his finger to his chest, the echo of Umbra’s warning growl echoing through his ears. But when he opened his eyes, he was alone, curled in his high backed lounger in the library in Tenebrae cradling a bleeding, but rapidly healing, pinky finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading~ Feel free to leave a comment below!


	3. Talcott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talcott dreams of making a difference and Gentiana has had enough of Cor's meddling.

Cor Leonis would readily admit that he’d adopted Cindy, and later Iris. He’d assumed responsibility and had inherited a duty to protect two women that hadn’t needed him from the people that’d  loved them the most. He’d pledged his life, his sword, over deathbed and rushed text message to two good men who’d looked out into the Darkness and knew their time was up.

But Talcott?

Young, earnest Talcott?

Talcott had adopted _him._

It’d happened to gradually, so gently (as most things Talcott did, save driving, were gentle) that Cor hadn’t realized just how firmly the boy had wedged himself into his life until he, limping and dizzy from his latest recovery mission into the Endless night, and clutching a bag of red bean buns, had been nearly taken to the ground as Talcott viciously embraced him the moment he’d managed to get his shaking fingers to open his apartment’s door.

“You’re late!” Talcott had cried, “You’re two days late!”

Cindy and Iris hovered just behind their youngest, twin expression of relief on their faces.

“Sorry.” Cor had replied, wrapping his free arm around the boy’s trembling shoulders.

“I bought you those buns you like, if you think you can forgive me.”

But that had been a lifetime ago, literally, the memory made fresh by the sweet, buttery dessert Ignis had prepared that night. A single bite had brought the memory of that night in the Darkness to the forefront of his mind, and he’d been prompted to share that little memory as he’d noticed the Queen’s warm, questioning stare. He’d shared how Talcott had pulled his punch upon taking in the bloodstains still fresh on his battered Crownsguard coat and had instead snatched the still warm bag from his hands and sulked on the couch, pressed close against Cor’s least bruised side for the remainder of the evening, his cap, gifted from Cid, pulled low over his eyes.

Therefore, when Cor blinked his eyes open after he’d just slipped them shut in the darkness of his rooms in the Citadel, he was unsurprised to find himself bouncing along in the unmistakable, ripped leather bench seat of Talcott’s trusty pickup.

The sun was blinding, casting the world beyond the dusty windshield into a sunbleached wasteland, the extent of which he couldn’t truly see. The world washed out ten feet or so in front of the truck. Cor grunted, and flipped the sun visor down unthinkingly, just in time to finally register what a seventeen year old Talcott was babbling about beside him.

“-ade it!” He was visibly shaking, but his smile split his face as he continued to glance up from under the bill of his cap into the rearview mirror into the bed of the truck.

“Ten years! Ten _freaking_ years!” He glanced at Cor and reached out to shake his shoulder, attempting as he used to, to coax a smile from the man. Cor’s eyes flicked up to the mirror to see just what had the kid vibrating in his seat.

Curled together in sleep was Ignis, Prompto and Gladio, their arms and legs possessively intertwined in a heap around a sleeping, thirty year old King Noctis. They were dead to the world on a nest of padding blankets and camping gear that lived in the back of Talcott’s mobile home; bloody, bruised, but definitely alive.

“Of course you knew, you always know.” Talcott gushed, and Cor had the sudden feeling that he had far less control of himself in this dream than he’d had in the past. He tried to respond, but his lips refused to move, and he felt his shoulders lift in a dismissive shrug without his permission.

“You’re gonna wake them up with all your yellin’!” Iris hissed as her head popped into the cab. Her hair was still in the tight warriors braid that Monica had taught her all those years ago, and Cor realized that they were rumbling along away from Insomnia, back towards Hammerhead on what must have been the first day of the Dawn. Talcott was dreaming that the boys had all survived the Night.

“Sorry!” He dropped his voice to a loud whisper, unable to properly control his volume. “I’m just so- I thought we were going to be too late.”  

Cor’s hand lifted itself to pat his shoulder.

“You did well to get us there so quickly.” Dream Cor soothed, “You’re one hell of a driver.”

Talcott’s smile brightened again and he turned his attention back to the road; before him on the dashboard, his row of cactuar figurines bobbled along as if mirroring his excitement.

Cor felt his lips pulling into a smile without his permission, despite the uncomfortable tumble his heart took as he realized that Talcott, quiet, sweet Talcott, somehow thought that he could have gotten them to Insomnia in time to prevent all that had happened. They had gotten there as fast as they’d been able to, considering they had to gather everyone up from Lestallum and the Hammerhead outpost. Talcott had nearly pushed his truck to overheating, swerving around debris and abandoned cars and the occasional bold creature that dared to step in front of the boy.

To say that their little family had been distraught on the first day of the Dawn would be a criminal understatement, but Cor had been so focused on his next steps (collect and bury the bodies, alert the hunters, regroup in Lestallum) and swallowing down the ever present scream that had pooled at the back of his throat as soon as they’d seen the path of destruction leading to the Citadel, that he’d paid little mind to anything or anyone else except to offer the only comforts he knew; distractions in the form of tasks.

Cor tried again to speak, to cast his voice over the middle set that suddenly felt like a canyon, but his lips only twitched with the effort. Talcott’s dream was quickly becoming a nightmare for Cor as he realized that he couldn’t speak up to reassure the boy. How could Talcott think that any of them had the power to disrupt fate? To change that cursed prophecy? To save them?

“Mmn.” Cor’s lips shook as he managed to split them apart, the effort making his heart beat brutally against his ribs. Talcott turned that bright face towards him, eyes pale in the sunlight, only the barest hint of confusion on his face in the form of a crooked grin.

“Nn!” Cor narrowed his eyes and worked harder to shake the shackles of the dream. Aulea had stated that the trick to most things in the Beyond was memory. One had to hold a memory in their mind, or let it flood their heart or some other overly poetic way to stay concentrate. But Aulea was usually right, so Cor brought forth the memory of a young Talcott, smiling over sticky dessert buns, laughing in excitement as he passed his unofficial driving test. He remembered awkwardly trying to guide the preteen through his first crush, his first heartbreak. Teaching him to fight, to hold a baby. He let the fierce bubble of protective instinct flood his heart, felt it rip through his veins like the first few seconds of a battle and felt the moment that he broke free of the confines the dream.

“N- None of what happened…” He took care to enunciate clearly, as his tongue was still slipping around his mouth as if it were made of lead.

“None of what happened was your fault.” Talcott’s eyes widened and he reached his right hand out towards Cor, shock etched across his features.

“Cor?”

Cor worked to lift his hand to meet him halfway, but he he suddenly found that the entire left side of his body felt frozen, painfully cold and stiff at his side. The ice spread from his left hand and across his body as if he’d been thrown into ice water.

Between one blink and the next, Talcott, the cab and the dawn were gone, replaced with his bedroom and the darkness of midnight in the Beyond. He jerked as he recognized that the green light he was staring at was not the alarm clock, but instead the wide open eyes of Gentiana.

She removed her hand from his own, and the frigid sensation immediately dissipated, leaving pins and needles in its wake.

“To meddle in dreams is dangerous, even for the lion hearted.” She said, but abruptly stepped back as something small, fluffy, and deceptively heavy landed on chest. It was making small, vicious yipping sounds, its tail smacking against his face with each angry swish.

“Carbuncle.” Gentiana said, and if Cor hadn’t thought the goddess incapable, she almost sounded tired.

“Carbuncle?” Cor echoed. The creature made a sound not unlike a purr and whipped around, again hitting him in the face with his tail, to press his nose against Cor’s. Cor’s vision blurred for a moment as he stared into its beady eyes before his vision settled on the jeweled horn in the center of its forehead.

Immediately, Cor recognized the fox like Astral from the tiny, chipped crystal figure they’d recovered from the Regalia’s wreckage. It’d meant something to Iris, who’d gripped the figurine tight enough to cut her hand on its chipped horn. It now lived on her mantelpiece, sacred enough that the children had never thought to take it from its place of honor beside the family photo of herself, Clarus, Gladio and Odessa.

Carbuncle chirped, seemingly satisfied and turned to curl himself atop Cor’s chest, beady eyes locked on Gentiana.

“He who guided in life, shall guide in dreams,” Gentiana’s lips twitched, but Cor couldn’t tell if it was a laugh or a grimace, “Says Carbuncle.”

Carbuncle yipped again.

“For it is he who rules the realm of dreams, and it is he who has deemed you worthy of the task… says Carbuncle.” Gentiana titled her head and stepped back. Carbuncle’s tail swished at his face again, and when his vision cleared of pale grey blue fur, the goddess was gone. Carbuncle stood and circled on his chest a few more times, before once again settling, this time staring directly at Cor where he was still tangled in his charcoal bedding.

“Thanks.” He said awkwardly, “I… I’m not sure how I keep doing it… but it’s good to see them, even if they don’t really see _me_.”  

Cor made to get up, unsettled by the entire experience despite the sleep still tugging heavily at his limbs, but the tiny Astral let out a growl and Cor flopped back against his pillows. A yawn worked it’s way past his lips, and Carbuncle again let out a noise that could have been a purr.

“Yes sir.” He muttered, eyes slipping closed. “I guess I’ll see you on the other side.”

It was the best sleep he’d ever had in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As always!  
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading!  
> Please feel free to drop a comment below! I love the feedback!


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